bat, cat, spat
by dubrovna
Summary: Even the Bat and the Cat have lover's quarrel every now and then.


Selina Kyle was running.

Across rooftops, bag of shiny things in hand. Shadowy figures on her tail, a bounty on her head.

Just a typical Tuesday night.

Her legs burned from exhaustion, her arms tense from the action. Selina hadn't done this in days — she had been taking a break from her nighttime activities to focus on more important things, much to the Bat's suspicion. But tonight, tonight was different. Tonight she had a mission, a goal, and a purpose. She was done lying low. Cat woman was making a comeback and the Bat was not about to miss it. As she jumped from rooftop to rooftop, she felt the air whip past her leather cowl, tugging at the tendrils of black hair that reached out in the cold, open Gotham air; cold, open, _filthy_ air, a hybrid that reeked the stench of dead fish from Dixon Docks and the general smog of an industrial city. It was the smell of terror, evil, and crime. It was the smell of fear and corruption. It was the smell of _home_.

She let out a resounding laugh as she leapt from GNB's rooftops to Quill's Headquarters'. Risking a glance over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the caped crusader hot on her tail. He was closing in, and quickly. The stern line of his lips meant that he was all business. Tonight, he was not here for the game — unlike her. For Selina, it was all about the chase; the thrill and the adrenaline. For _him_? Justice. Duty. Blah-blah-blah. She knew he could catch her if he really wanted to, all he had to do was—

"— _oof!"_ Selina was mid-leap when he threw himself forcefully across the building, tackling her. They tumbled to the ground, hitting the concrete with grunts and groans that preceded the manifestation of black and blue souvenirs on their skin. Her mouth formed into a smile. _Caught, at last_. She managed a few airy laughs as the air quickly entered and left her body, attempting to bring her adrenaline down and calm the feline felon. Batman, too, was breathless, though not as much. _He_ never took a break. _How depressing_. Once her breath was evened out, she cheekily rolled to the side, as she'd do in bed with a partner, and propped her head up with her hand, angled at her elbow. Her other hand playfully ran down his armored chest, down the bat emblem. "Look at what the _cat_ dragged in…." His hand stiffly grabbed her wrist, tugging her off his chest as he sat up.

"No games. Not tonight." He looked away, his tone flat and demanding.

She furrowed her brow, sitting up and pulling her hand free. "Easy with the grip, _Bats_. I'm not here for games either," she added, rolling her eyes. Her hands fished for the bag of diamonds, disgruntled, and she tossed them his way. The velvet pouch hit his chest with a thud, sliding down until he caught them with his hands. He looked up at her, confused.

"That's it?"

"No, that's not _it_." She stood, already upset that he had ruined her mood, as per usual. "I have business to talk."

"And you had to steal for that?" he asked, following suit, then pocketing the velvet bag into one of the many pockets on his belt.

She sighed in exasperation, crossing her arms, "What? Like I could've called and you would've answered?"

"Selina —"

"Oh, stop. Just stop. You're being difficult."

"Are you going to explain your matter? I have other things to do." This prompted another eye-roll from behind rose goggles.

"Of course you do. Just go — it's not like you'd listen to me anyway. One ear here, one ear in Gotham, right?"

He frowned, "Can't we do this some other time?"

"It's been a slow night. No one's dying, Bats. You have time to spare." She turned back towards him, clawed hands placed on his chest as she peered at him. "Tell me, Detective: What was Bruce Wayne doing with Vicki Vale last night?"

She was certain that if he wasn't wearing a cowl, his eyebrows would have shot up to his hairline. "This is what you stole 30 millions worth of diamonds for?"

A clawed finger found its way under his chin. "You're avoiding the question, Detective."

He was unfazed, "I needed help with a lead on the Maroni case. She had the inside scoop."

"So you invited her over to Wayne Manor for dinner?"

"She has a sweet spot for Bruce Wayne."

"Oh, I'm _sure_ she does."

"Selina."

"No, please, I'd love to hear why she had to spend the night."

"There was a snowstorm, Selina. I couldn't exactly kick her out."

He was right, but she was still green. "What a gentleman."

Batman grasped the hand under his chin. "I don't owe you answers."

Ouch. "You're right. You don't owe me a _thing_. We're not even exclusive."

"Good. Glad we're on the same page."

"Good."

They stood in silence, two feet apart from one another. A sort of stare-down to see who would move first.

Finally, he caved. "I would never…cheat… on you, Selina." His tone took on the edge of Bruce Wayne. Through narrow eyes she could see that the Bat-Facade was slipping.

"You'd have to be in a relationship with me for you to cheat on me, remember?" Her voice had a steel edge to it, cooler than the night air around them. It bit at her exposed cheeks, made her frown seem grimmer.

"You have no reason to be jealous." His arms reached out to her, holding her steady and doing slight rubbing motions to warm her from the cold air. _Oh yeah, he was laying Bruce Wayne on thick_.

"I have _every_ reason to be jealous," she snapped back. How could she not be? Bruce Wayne was not only the most eligible bachelor on the scene in Gotham, he had been Gotham's most notorious playboy for almost a decade. He had never once made a move to settle down, rarely taking on steady relationships with international models or dancers or debutantes. Selina was none of those things. As for the Batman? Well, he worked alone, as he had repeatedly reminded her for the years they had known one another. He didn't need a partner, he didn't need anybody else. He certainly didn't need a string like Selina to trip him up. It made her feel insecure about their relationship; she didn't know where they stood or when he was going to call it quits. She wasn't sure when he'd resort to his playboy ways (which he swears is an act, but a man is still a _man_ at the end of the day). She wasn't sure when he'd decide that trusting her was too much. She just knew she didn't want to be the one to be _dumped_.

"Selina," his tone was gentle now, hushed to keep anyone or anything from picking up on what he was saying. "I have…cared…for you for a long time now. You're one of the most important people in my life. If I lost you…" his voice caught in his throat so subtly you'd have to have been really listening to have picked up on it. He cleared his throat, continuing, "I'd never risk losing you over … _Vicki Vale_." The name was spoken with a mix of disbelief and sarcasm. Her eyes sought his while he spoke, trying to make out if he was lying to her or goading her like Bruce Wayne did his bimbos. He was an exceptional liar, that was true. But for Batman to profess his emotions so openly, in the middle of the night on a rooftop — he couldn't possibly be lying. Why risk being overheard? Or worse, targeted at a moment of vulnerability?

She caved. Whatever magic he had worked on her had worked. She'd make sure to ring up Zatanna after this to ask her a few questions. Nonetheless, her body melted into his as he enveloped it in a warm hug, his head bending over hers to lie his cheek atop her head. It was a sight for any of Batman's adversaries to see him in such a position. "Sometimes I truly hate you, Bats," she murmured into his arm.

He smiled — or at least she thinks he did — and said, "I know." His face sought hers, hesitating a moment before catching her lips with his. Unlike most of their kisses, this one was absent of the passion and ferocity their sexual tension culminated to. Instead, it was more gentle and caring, like a caress or a familiar embrace shared by an old couple. They knew each other's rhythms and fit together like two missing pieces. For them, for the first time in a long time, it was what contentment felt like.

"Mm— One more thing," she said abruptly, pulling back.

He tried suppressing a sigh, but failed. "What is it?"

"Your cowl."

Batman pulled back in confusion. "My — what about it?"

"The nose of it. It's annoying," she said matter-of-factly.

"Annoying?"

Selina pointed to the dent in her cheek. "Yeah. _Annoying_. Try getting a mark every time you try to make out with your bat-boyfriend." Batman raised a gloved hand, absentmindedly-stroking the length of the cowl's nose. It was a hard material with a sharpened end. "Some people get hickeys, _love-bites_. Me? I get pointy dents in my cheeks every night. People are starting to think I have dimples."

The following night, the cowl had a marked difference in its nose shape and texture.


End file.
